The act of being carried is more dangerous and devious than you could possibly imagine. It is at the root of all man's problems. Whether ideological or physical the act of being carried is at one and the same time the act of being deported from one's original scene of Being. This 'eco-existential deportation', which is what transportation really ought to be called, removes one from everything local including one's self. The self you see, like the universe, is a local entity. It is not over there, but emphatically here. Moreover, this self is not just local but immediate too. This means that you are not 'then' or 'hence' but, again, like the universe, emphatically now. The act of transport removes you from this here and now by infecting your bodymind with an absence. This absence is the removal from your own locomotive force which pumps blood around the body and ignites the heart and mind. This removal and absence then removes one from oneself through the simple dismissal of the body. One becomes an apparition, a ghost not so much in the machine but of it. The engine of the body, the heart, is displaced and replaced (and thus weakened and contaminated) by a mechanical engine that transports you. One no longer becomes 'important' as significant and meaningful since your importing quality - the bodymind - has been displaced by a transporting medium. This transporting medium, for its removal of yourself from yourself (effectively a miniaturization of the self), is thus as good as a drug, specifically some kind of anasthaetic that numbs and sedates simply through the sedentary and the non-moving body being moved through space. Moreover, man's Memory (which has emerged through aboriginal orientation and the natural navigation of the land) deteriorates. The narcotic of being carried (psycho-physically) - in this instant by Civilization, Progress, and Science - induces a stupor in the animal, and it this stupor - through the loss of Heart, the loss of Memory, and the resultant loss of Mind - that has railroaded man into a way of life that becomes evermore stupefying, stupid, and addictive.
Excursion to the Edge
The reinvention of daily life means marching off the edge of our maps.
Bob Black, The Abolition of Work
The black line from top centre left down to bottom centre. Here the route goes through Queen's Park and up and over Camphill Avenue down to the White Cart Water path and onto Spean Street. (And even though this route is clearly still on the OS map above, it is off the Glasgow A-Z I have. Carmunnock and High Castlemilk obviously not being deemed important enough to make it ;)
I did it on April Fools day last year for the first time under the post 'lassooing the horizon', but man am I glad I did it again today. What a route especially when you consider how many built-up areas you pass through. From my gaff it's across the motorway and onto the marvellous Albert Drive, a French boulevard if ever there was one, a boulevard moreover that is devoid of cars and replete with some fine mansions and castellated villas. This is already a great start to our excursion up to the edge, an empty Pollokshields and no cars, and of course that winter light beaming me up and calling my soul to the edge. From Pollokshields it's through Strathbungo, past Queen's Park (remaining on Queen's Drive as there are just too many leashes in the park). Here, we swing past Battlefield and into Cathcart along Holmwood Road (Alternatively, you could head past the Battlefield Rest straight into Sinclair Avenue and then swing round onto the lovely Spean Street which runs alongside the White Cart Water). Just before Cathcart station hang a left up into Old Castle Road to the little park where Mary Queen of Diddies sat on her fat little ass and watched her army get routed on the opposing Camphill a couple of miles yonder in Langside.
From here it's up and over Simshill via Shetland Avenue and then we follow the golf course along the empty Drakemire Drive turning left into Lainshaw Drive which will take us onto Carmunnock Road in Castlemilk. From here, follow the road up to the roundabout and turn left towards the big wood and St. Mary's Seat which is about 2km further on.
Up and through the wood (there are a few differet routes) and you should see the big wind turbine. The views across the valley are not far away...! Following a brief inhalation, it was then back down the way we came, alternating here and there with different roads. The way back is bliss after cycling uphill for about 70 minutes, and the sun was still out. Not to mention, this is one of the rare all-road trips I have made, and yet perfectly peaceful (perhaps because there were less cars on the roads, but mostly because I never had to navigate around demented dog-walkers and their nooses). I got back, never rushing, five minutes short of two hours after I had left. Amazing! Less than two hours, at a leisurely pace, mind, body, spirit galvanized... and another New Year blessed with my own renewable and very clean energy. God Bless the bicycle and the body! And the edges!
